


Shiloe: Just the Two of Us

by Sablesilverrain



Series: Shiloe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bloodplay, Flirting, Kinda Watersports, M/M, Phobias, Sex, Sex Magic, Short Chapters, Underage Drinking, beastiality, but not really, cuteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 22:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12803280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sablesilverrain/pseuds/Sablesilverrain
Summary: Companion piece to Shiloe and sequels. Snippets of scenes that are important or mentioned later, but don't fit into the story proper. Ratings will vary, lengths will vary, and this is not required reading, though it will add an extra layer to certain scenes within Shiloe and sequels.





	1. Draco and Blaise-You, too?(S12.5)

Draco stood from his chair in front of the fire and headed for the entrance to the common room. “I’ll be back later.” He said to the other Slytherins, getting a few murmured responses.

 

Blaise hadn’t returned from dinner, and he wondered why, but he had to get to Shiloe’s room before he was late, so he didn’t have time to worry about his friend’s whereabouts. He didn’t have to worry at all, though, as he found the black teen slowly heading in the same direction he was, though he was a few corridors away from the common room.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to be heading to the fourth floor, would you?” He asked Blaise casually.

 

Blaise smiled in relief. “You, too?” He asked.

 

Draco nodded. “Of course. There isn’t a creature on this Earth that can resist the charm of Malfoys.” He replied, striking a pose in the deserted corridor and running a hand through his hair dramatically. “We’re drop-dead gorgeous, after all.”

 

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Dray.” Blaise joked, falling into step beside the blond. “I’m glad you’ll be there.” He admitted softly.

 

Draco smiled and grabbed his hand, giving it a brief squeeze before dropping it. “I promised to watch over you, didn’t I? I don’t want anything else to happen to you.” He said seriously.

 

Blaise sighed. “About that… He’s mine. My Mate.” He whispered, causing Draco to nearly fall down the stairs they were ascending.

 

“Really?!”

 

Blaise nodded. “And the Host isn’t.” He added.

 

Draco hummed. “I see. That’s strange. I suppose it will all work out, though, or nature wouldn’t have planned things this way.” He said lightly. “About that, things still going well? You’re taking your medicine, right?” He checked.

 

Blaise shivered at the reminder of the flavour of Wolfsbane. “Ugh, don’t remind me. Yeah.”

 

“No unfortunate side effects?” Draco checked.

 

Blaise sighed. “Well, aside from the anal leakage-“

 

“Alright, sorry I asked, Merlin, I was just showing concern!” Draco exclaimed as Blaise softly chuckled.

 

“You left yourself wide open, I couldn’t resist.”

 

Draco and Blaise stopped in front of the portrait Shiloe had mentioned. “So, where do you think the rooms are?”

 

They both turned as a door opened across the hall from the portrait, and they had their answer, as Shiloe appeared in the doorway.

 


	2. Draco, Blaise and Nev-Tending a Dragon(S26.5)

Draco frowned. “Father, you got a divorce from Mother, right? But why would you do that?” He asked.

 

Lucius sighed. “Your mother is too fond of the Dark Lord. She has refused to leave him. She will likely be after me for my desertion.”

 

Draco’s eyes widened. “You were…?”

 

Lucius sighed. “Yes, Draco. I was. It is something I no longer feel pride in, however.”

 

“Are you the reason Severus was?” Draco asked in a small voice.

 

“Another thing I am not proud of.” He confirmed.

 

Draco shook his head. “Would you have made me join, too?” He whispered.

 

Lucius closed his eyes in pain. “I’m not sure. I very well may have, if ordered to.” He said in a strained voice.

 

Draco backed up a few paces, a tear finally escaping as he shook his head in mute denial.

 

Blaise and Neville rushed over to comfort him.

 

Shiloe sighed. “Take him to Rowena’s rooms, please.” He told the two teens.

 

They nodded and began leading him away.

 

Draco passively let them steer him into the room. He climbed onto the bed and pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as tears slid down his cheeks and he let out another soft sob.

 

Blaise got onto the bed and eased Draco’s legs out far enough to pull his shoes off. “Mi dispiace, il mio Drago. Sono qui per te se hai bisogno del mio aiuto.”*

 

Draco sniffled. “It’s not your fault, don’t call me that, and I can’t understand you when you do that.” The blond replied miserably, and Neville realized that Blaise had helped him through tough times before, as the black Italian just kicked his own shoes off, sat next to Draco, and clutched his own legs to his chest, offering silent support as Draco cried it out.

 

Neville removed his shoes and got onto the bed as well, and then wrapped his arms around Draco, not knowing what else to do.

 

“What are you doing?” Draco asked him, but his voice had lost its bite.

 

Neville sighed. “I’m doing the only thing I can think to do, so shut up and let me at least _try_ to help. That’s not something you deserved to hear, and it couldn’t have been easy, nor could it have felt good to hear. I have to do something, alright?”

 

Draco sighed and relaxed into the hold. “Alright.” He said softly.

 

Blaise blinked in surprise, but stayed silent. This was a first. Draco had never accepted physical comfort from him, flinging him off violently on occasion, rather than accept an embrace.

 

He sniffed lightly, and noticed the scent of creature magic at work. He realized that Neville’s magic was… ‘Tasting’ Draco’s, having dismissed the already-mated Werewolf’s magic as incompatible.

 

He wondered what the teen would prove to be, thinking of inheritances that manifested at sixteen, as Shiloe had said Neville would. Both Atra Veritatis and Vorago manifested at fifteen, while Indago, Sinicae, Veela and most others manifested at a Wizard’s majority, seventeen.

 

Few manifested at sixteen, and Blaise couldn’t think of any off the top of his head.

 

“I really can’t believe that he was a Death Eater.” Draco whispered. “Severus had told me he was, when I saw his mark as a child, and he warned me never to join the Dark Lord if he ever returned. I never thought that my father was the reason-“ Draco stopped talking abruptly as another sob wracked his body, a few more tears slipping down his cheeks.

 

Blaise sighed. “Well, il mio Drago, I am here for you, and you also have our little leone, here, by the look of things.” He said, nodding toward Neville.

 

“I’m a what?” Neville asked.

 

“Lion.” Draco answered with a hint of amusement. “Bloody Gryffindor.” He teased playfully.

 

Blaise lay down on the bed, pushing his legs between Draco’s back and the wall.

 

“Ow!” Draco complained, moving away from the wall.

 

“Then lay down, idiota.” Blaise replied easily.

 

“Why is he speaking so much Italian now? He doesn’t usually do that.” Neville commented.

 

“That happens when he’s emotional. He sometimes has trouble keeping the language barrier in place when he’s stressed.” Draco sighed and pulled Neville with him. “Come on, let’s lie down.”

 

The three teens curled up together and began to doze lightly, Neville’s magic humming happily as it examined the feel and flavour of Draco’s magic, declaring it a possible match for Neville when he came into his inheritance and latching onto it for further consideration.

 

 

 

* I'm sorry, my Dragon. I'm here for you if you need my help. (In Italian, which I do _not_ speak _at all_. Feel free to correct me if Google translate is wrong.)

 


	3. Seff and Shi-Mates at Long Last (S33.5)

Shiloe growled under his breath as he came to a stream nestled deep in the heart of the Forbidden Forest.

 

Seff had crossed the stream, but Shiloe came out on the other side, sniffing, and caught no scent of the werewolf. He had followed the stream a ways, then.

 

That made things more exciting.

 

Shiloe grinned, shifting fluidly to his eagle form and taking wing. He flew carefully, weaving through branches and foliage as he scanned the ground with his keen vision.

 

He caught sight of a large black form disappearing into a mass of bushes, and landed in a covered area a few feet away, shifting to Jaguar form as his feet hit the ground.

 

Seff emerged, and Shiloe pounced from behind him, pinning him face-down in a bed of pine needles and dead leaves.

 

He shifted back to human form, and Seff whined, a high-pitched, needy sound, as his tail moved aside invitingly.

 

‘Claim me.’ Seff requested, the soft growls carrying no further than Shiloe’s ears.

 

Shiloe sucked in a quick breath, and then reached in his pocket—and his hand came back empty.

 

“Shite.” He mumbled, then raised his voice. “I _had_ lube, but I must have dropped it-“

 

‘No matter.’ Seff cut him off impatiently. ‘I need none. I want the burn and the pain. I need to _feel_ you, Mate.’ He rumbled.

 

Shiloe fumbled with his trousers, nearly tearing them open in his haste to accept freely-offered sex.

 

Seff stayed still, his instincts accepting Shiloe’s domination now that Shiloe had been proven a more skilled hunter then Seff had been prey.

 

Shiloe drew his cock out and aligned it with Seff’s entrance, pushing forward only slightly. “You’re sure? The mock-hunt was… Exhilarating.” He warned, letting Seff feel his aching, throbbing, harder-than-diamonds erection.

 

 Seff snarled. ‘ _Do it_!’ He pleaded, a desperate note creeping into his voice.

 

Shiloe pushed forward, seating himself and hearing Seff’s loud howl of triumph.

 

Every creature in the forest now knew that a newly-mated pair would be running by the moon tonight. Each and every last one, including the centaurs, who normally held themselves aloof from the affairs of wizards, were gladdened by the sound of true, abiding love committed to.

 

Shiloe bit his lip. Seff was tighter than Blaise, owing largely to the fact that he was still virginal in this form, Shiloe assumed. “Well,” Shiloe panted with a wry smile. “I don’t think I can last very long.” He admitted.

 

‘Then don’t.’ The Werewolf responded. ‘I am your sub. I will come with you.’ He reassured his trembling mate.

 

Shiloe grinned at that, and began thrusting.

 

Seff revelled in the feeling of his mate within him, joined as one at _last_. He growled and began moving with him when he felt Shiloe’s hands dig into the fur of his shoulders and hold fast, using the extra leverage to pull Seff into his thrusts.

 

Seff panted and growled, urging Shiloe on. _This_ was what the werewolf in him wanted: hard, savage thrusts designed to drive his mate so deeply into him that they could never be separated again.

 

When he came, at the same moment as Shiloe, the howl he released was so loud and long that it left no doubts in the mind of any animals living in the forest that Seff was vastly satisfied with the mate he had received.

 


	4. Shi and Nev: Entomophobia (S37.5)

“Rowena can’t come out here herself anymore, and she wanted me to ask you to tend to her potions ingredients.” Shiloe told Neville proudly. “She knows how good you are at Herbology. I agreed that you might like the challenge. _Here_ we are!” He finished, indicating the overgrown garden.

 

Neville winced. “It’s going to be a tough job to get it organized, but I think I can. _Merlin_.” He whispered in awe, kneeling next to a shrub that grew teardrop-shaped light blue blossoms. “I think this is Dragon’s Sorrow!” He said softly. “But that’s not _possible_! It’s been extinct for three hundred years!”

 

Shiloe smirked. “I take it you’ll take the job?”

 

Neville grinned. “With immense pleasure! Look, this is the Cry Pansy! It’s supposed to be extinct, too!” He exclaimed in excitement. “I can get it weeded  and do some pruning, but I’ll need to study the proper care of some of these plants!”

 

Shiloe chuckled. “Do you want help?”

 

Neville nodded. “Sure. Pull up everything in this area that looks like… _This_!” He announced, ripping up a mass of leaves and roots, sending dirt flying everywhere.

 

Shiloe grinned. “So… This one?” He asked, gripping a plant at the base.

 

Neville checked, then nodded. “Yep. Rip it out straight up so the roots come out, too.”

 

Shiloe pulled, grabbed, and pulled again, the work becoming mindless as he learned to recognize undesirable Flora and set about eradicating it.

 

After a few minutes, Neville hummed. “And what are _you_ doing here, little ladybug?” He asked, holding up a hand. The ladybug was heading toward his wrist.

 

Shiloe recoiled.

 

Neville turned shocked eyes to him. “Shi? What’s up?”

 

“I hate _all_ beetles.” Shiloe admitted.

 

Neville covered his mouth with his free hand, stifling a chuckle.

 

Shiloe glared at him, venomously.

 

Neville recovered, shaking his head. “Ladybugs won’t hurt you.” He said patiently, then cocked his head. “Well, unless you _eat_ them.”

 

“ _That_ is _disgusting_.” Was Shiloe’s honest opinion.

 

Neville’s laughter filled the garden as the ladybug took flight.

 


	5. Draco and Shi-Blood (S40.5)

Shiloe felt along the bond with Draco, feeling that the blonde was up to something. He was getting strange sensations through the bond. There was an almost irritating rush of nervousness, followed by a flush of giddy excitement, then a rush of peace and arousal for a few moments, then the cycle would start up again.

 

He frowned, and concentrated on pinpointing where the blonde was at the moment. He was in a bathroom.

 

‘What could Draco be doing in a bathroom that would have him feeling like that?!’ He wondered.

 

After it happened a few more times, he went to check, stepping into the alcove that seemed to have been added to the common room specifically for Lo to shadow-walk through, and reappearing right outside the bathroom he could tell Draco was in, thanking Hogwarts mentally for all the terribly accommodating shadowy places it held seemingly everywhere.

 

He walked into the bathroom and called out: “Draco? What are you doing?”

 

There was a quick frission of fear from the bond, and a breathy “Hang on!” from Draco. Shiloe saw the tell-tale glow of a minor healing charm being cast from the stall Draco’s voice had come from, then the door opened, and Draco stepped out, looking as cool and unruffled as ever. “Yes, Shiloe?” He asked, eyebrow arched.

 

Shiloe crossed his arms and leaned against the sink, looking calmly at Draco. “What exactly were you doing in there?” He asked, curiosity piqued.

 

Draco flushed, and Shiloe felt a brief flash of fear and shame from the bond. “I was, um, wanking.” He answered.

 

Shiloe snorted. “Nice try. You wouldn’t be afraid of me asking if you’d been just wanking, plus you forget, I. Can. _See_. Magic. Wanking doesn’t require healing spells afterward, unless you’re _really_ kinky.” He answered. “The truth?” He pressed.

 

Draco flushed. “It’s none of your business. I’m fine!”

 

“Don’t make me force you to tell me. If you’re doing something dangerous to yourself, I need to know. I can’t live if any of you die, remember?” Shiloe pressed, staring hard at Draco.

 

“Really, it’s nothing to worry about. I have things under control.”

 

Suddenly, the ebb-and-flow of the emotions he’d felt and the healing spell he’d seen clicked in his head. He sighed. “Draco, if you need the physical release that bad, you can always come to me. I can help you in a way that will be mutually beneficial; You’ll get the pain and relief you need, and I can get a Feeding, too. There have been plenty of Shiloe in the past that cut. If that’s what you need, let me be there. Do this safely, with me. Too many things can go wrong if you insist on cutting alone. If I lose you, I can’t go on.” He whispered, pulling the blond into his arms.

 

Draco trembled. “You don’t think less of me?” He whispered, feeling slightly more ashamed than he had earlier. “You don’t think I’m weak?”

 

Shiloe shook his head. “No, never. I understand. Is it just the pain, or is there an eroticism to it, as well?” He asked, making sure he wasn’t taking things wrong.

 

“It…” Draco gulped, pulling away and looking at his feet. “It’s erotic, yes.” He answered. “But that doesn’t make me a bottom!” He snapped, looking into Shiloe’s face defiantly.

 

Shiloe chuckled. “Calm down, Draco. I never meant to imply that you were anything other than a top. You can be a top and still want to be submissive in this one thing.” He gathered Draco close again and kissed him. “Were you done for tonight, or do you want to join me in my rooms so we can explore this kink of yours further?”

 

Draco flushed. “No, I wasn’t done. We can go.” He answered, a small smile on his lips. “You won’t tell my father?” He checked, as Shiloe led him out to the alcove.

 

Shiloe simply raised a brow and asked, “Tell him what?” before he stepped, pulling Draco with him.

 

Draco gasped at the dizzying feeling that was shadow-walking, and Shiloe chuckled. “Yes, that happens the first few times.” He explained.

 

“Did you just Apparate in Hogwarts?! And why did it feel so… Not like Side-along?” Draco demanded.

 

Shiloe rolled his eyes. “You can’t Apparate within Hogwarts, not even I can, so no. That was shadow-walking. It’s different, and if you’re very good, maybe you’ll get to do it again sometime.”

 

Draco blinked. “That’s pretty awesome.” He replied.

 

Shiloe simply smirked and grabbed his hand, pulling him to Salazar’s rooms. “Come on, let’s get to a bed so we can do this comfortably.”

 

They got into the room and Draco pulled off his shirt as Shiloe set up silencing charms. “No use in risking it getting dirty, which it might if I do this lying down. I never have before.” He explained.

 

Shiloe nodded. “Do you use a conjured knife, or a spell? Which would you prefer?” He asked.

 

“I use Diffindo.” Draco admitted with a small blush.

 

Shiloe watched as he laid on the bed. “Do you want me to do it? Or just be here in case I’m needed?”

 

Draco blinked slowly, then took a deep breath. “I trust you.” He answered, his fingers uncurling from his wand, letting it lie on the bed next to him.

 

Shiloe smiled, then brought out Ducen. ‘I need the power of this spell carefully checked, Ducen.’ He told his wand via the mental link.

 

*I will keep your powers in check, Master. You will not hurt the boy more than is necessary.* Ducen dutifully replied.

 

“Where should I cast?” Shiloe asked.

 

“I usually stick to my arms, or sometimes my chest. Nothing too deep, but enough to draw blood.” He answered. “Seeing the blood… It helps.” He answered, unable to explain it better.

 

Shiloe nodded. “I understand.” He carefully stretched Draco’s arm out and cast a Diffindo on his inner forearm, halfway between elbow and wrist. He watched Draco’s face as the blood welled up in the cut, noting that the blonde’s pupils dilated as he watched it, and knew that his were doing the same, from the delicious smell of the blood.

 

He licked his lips, and Draco’s eyes flicked to his face. “Again.” He breathed.

 

Shiloe cast another carefully controlled charm, cutting another stripe just below the one that was still bleeding minutely. He swallowed, watching the blood raptly.

 

Draco moaned, closing his eyes. “Lick it up.” He whispered, the sound barely audible over both their rasping breaths, but Shiloe heard.

 

He sucked in a startled breath and leaned down, licking over both cuts, and Draco moaned, his trousers growing impossibly tight.

 

Draco knew now that he’d never feel the urge to do this alone again. “Again.” He hissed, opening his eyes and watching as Shiloe cut him once more, directly above the other two this time. “Yesss!” He breathed, arching. “Suck it!” He ordered.

 

Shiloe bent and fastened his mouth over the cut, sucking at it to draw the blood into his mouth faster.

 

“Merlin!” Draco shouted, bringing his free hand up to fist in his hair as his hips shot upwards, desperately seeking friction, and finding none. “I need—“

 

Shiloe released the arm and rolled on top of Draco, giving him something to grind up against as he trailed his wand around a nipple. “Chest sound good now?” He checked.

 

Draco whimpered and nodded. “Yes, _Merlin_ , yes!”

 

Shiloe cast another Diffindo on the blond’s chest, licking the blood as soon as it showed.

 

Draco was panting and writhing, bucking up under Shiloe, thrusting his cock against the other teen’s desperately as he mewled. “More!” He gasped out.

 

Shiloe cast again, careful to put less power into the spell, knowing that Draco was close to the limit of blood he could safely lose in one night.

 

“Gods, Merlin, Shiloe, fuck me!”

 

Shiloe raised his head, pupils dilating further at what he was _sure_ he’d misheard. “What?” He asked in shock.

 

Draco heaved in a breath, opening his eyes, a small sliver of silver showing around blown pupils. “Fuck. Me.” Draco panted, staring into Shiloe’s eyes intently.

 

Shiloe blinked. Twice. “Are you sure?” He asked.

 

Draco growled. “Yes! Now stick your cock _in_ me, dammit!” He urged, grinding upwards against Shiloe again.

 

Shiloe chuckled breathily, pulling at the fasteners of Draco’s trousers before he grabbed Ducen and muttered the spell to disrobe them both quickly. He lubed his fingers and slid one carefully into Draco.

 

Tight. _So_ tight.

 

Draco moaned, pressing back against the finger and closing his eyes again.

 

Shiloe brushed up against Draco’s prostate and the blonde’s eyes snapped open. “What the fuck—“ He moaned again, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Hell, if someone had just _told_ me it felt _that_ good…” He gasped out, pushing back as Shiloe added a second finger, chuckling.

 

“It gets even better, my lovely incubus.” He promised, twisting the fingers, earning himself another delicious mewl from Draco. He added the third finger and stretched the tight opening carefully.

 

Draco was tossing his head, moaning incoherently as he pushed back against Shiloe’s fingers. “Yes, yes, _so good_! In me, now!”

 

Shiloe lubed himself and guided his cock to Draco’s entrance, pushing in carefully and sheathing himself fully in one long, slow slide. He paused to take a few breaths and looked down at Draco’s face. “You okay?” He checked.

 

Draco panted a few times, then clenched down, chuckling when Shiloe cursed under his breath. “Yes. Merlin, Shiloe, why didn’t you _tell_ me it felt like this?”

 

Shiloe raised an eyebrow and slid out, then back in, slowly. “I thought you didn’t want to know. You’d never expressed an interest before.” He explained, sliding in and out of Draco’s body slowly as he spoke.

 

Draco moaned again, one hand gripping the bedspread as the other came up to tangle in Shiloe’s hair. “I’m interested now.” He panted.

 

Shiloe slid one hand down to grip Draco’s cock. “I can tell. How does it feel, Draco?”

 

“Fuck, _so_ good! Fuck me harder.” He demanded, arching.

 

Shiloe thrust harder, stroking Draco in time with his thrusts, determined to make it good for him.

 

Draco’s eyes shot open and his body seemed to convulse before he was coming, screaming loud enough to make the silencing charm tremble, but it held, thankfully.

 

Shiloe chuckled, collapsing onto Draco as his orgasm left him feeling boneless. “Was it good for you?” He asked.

 

Draco smacked his ass half-heartedly. “Prat. Heal me, would you?”

 

Shiloe recovered Ducen, who had been lying off to the side, tossed carelessly away in the heat of passion, and cast careful healing charms on the cuts he’d left. “Are you going to stay here tonight?” He asked.

 

Draco shrugged. “I might as well.” He decided, curling into Shiloe. “I’ll have Dobby bring me clothes in the morning.” He peered up at Shiloe. “This still doesn’t make me a bottom. It was just the once.”

 

Shiloe smiled. “Of course.”


	6. Nev and Cedric-Of Dates and Essays (S46.5)

“Can I sit here?”

 

Neville looked up from his Charms text and nodded at Cedric. “Sure.”

 

Cedric smiled. “So, I hear you’re quite the prodigy when it comes to Herbology. Is that true?” He asked hopefully.

 

Neville flushed. “Seems to be. It’s my best subject.” He confirmed.

 

“Good.” Cedric chuckled. “Cause I need your help.”

 

Neville perked up. “With what?”

 

“Two things, actually. First is my essay on the medicinal uses of poppy, and second is that I’d like to go out on a date with you, if you’re amenable and available.” Cedric finished with a grin.

 

Neville flushed. “A d-d-date?!” He stuttered.

 

Cedric nodded, the smile growing. “Yeah. I really like you, and I already asked Shiloe, he said it was okay.” He explained quietly.

 

“Why with me?” Neville asked, confused. “I’m nothing special.”

 

Cedric sighed, laying a hand over Neville’s. “Listen, you’re special enough. Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not just as good as everybody else. You _are_. Shiloe sees it, I see it, judging by the look of things, I’d say Draco sees it, too. What should it matter what anyone else thinks, when you’ve got a group of people that all know that you’re worth spending time with and getting to know?” He tilted Neville’s face up to his with a finger under the younger teen’s chin. “Can I kiss you?” He asked softly.

 

Neville nodded, struck mute by the vehement defence of him Cedric had just made.

 

Cedric leaned in and gently brushed his lips over Neville’s, feeling the Gryffindor lean into the kiss, sighing breathily as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue over his lower lip. Neville opened his mouth, and tongue met tongue, twisting around each other, seeking out every flavour the other mouth had to offer as they ran over teeth and gums and palate. Cedric pulled away, brushing a hand over Neville’s flushed cheek.

 

“What do you say? Next Hogsmeade weekend? You and me?” He asked Neville, smiling hopefully.

 

Neville nodded numbly, still stunned from the kiss.

 

Unbeknownst to him, his magic had latched onto Cedric’s and declared it a possible match for him in the future, and was purring contentedly.

 

Cedric flushed in pleasure at the acceptance. “Great! Now, I really do need some help with this essay, I don’t know what I was thinking, picking that topic…” Cedric muttered, digging through his bag for the essay and his Herbology book.


	7. Moony, Seff and Shi-Alpha (S63.5)

Remus and Blaise downed their Wolfsbane in synchronicity, both wincing at the taste, and set down their glasses on the table.

 

“Well, let’s head out, then.” Remus said, taking off his shirt and leaving it on his favourite chair.

 

Shiloe and Blaise followed him through the Saferoom, saying a quick goodnight to Lucius as they passed.

 

They came out into the forest and Remus continued on to the clearing Shiloe had discovered. “This is as good a place as any.” He said, as Blaise looked around.

 

Shiloe raised an eyebrow. “Should I transform? I mean, Seff has no problem with me being human, he seems to feel no need to bite me at all.”

 

Remus sighed. “Yes. We have no idea how Moony will react to you in your human state. You may be Seff’s dominant, but you are going to be a _submissive_ to Moony. He’s an alpha, unlike Seff.” Remus reminded Shiloe.

 

Shiloe sighed, but transformed into his panther form, just as Blaise and Remus winced in tandem, then bent over, the transformation wracking their bodies.

 

Shiloe sat, watching them with sad eyes, as their bodies changed, Blaise sprouting black fur as Remus gained his own tawny pelt.

 

Within minutes, the groans and growls of pain stopped, and Shiloe watched as Seff and Moony eyed each other.

 

Moony seemed to decide that Seff was, for the moment, beneath his notice as he turned to Shiloe and advanced, growling.

 

“Mine!” Moony snarled, towering over Shiloe’s form. Shiloe rolled onto his back, baring his throat.

 

“Yours.” He affirmed.

 

Moony leaned down to sniff at his throat, then growled, and, without so much as a by-your-leave, lifted his leg and pissed on Shiloe.

 

‘Great. Remus was right.’ Shiloe thought as the fluid wet his belly. ‘I’m going to be in desperate need of a shower after this.’

 

Seff walked over and sniffed at Shiloe’s belly.

 

Remus growled at him.

 

Seff tilted his head, baring his throat to Remus, and the older Werewolf took his throat within his strong jaws. Shiloe’s breath caught, wondering if this was normal behaviour, or if Moony was going to tear out Seff’s throat. He watched as Seff stood still, then flopped onto his back at the urging from Moony.

 

Moony lifted his leg again and wet Seff’s belly as well, though not as copiously as he had Shiloe’s.

 

Seff seemed to perk up at this, strangely enough, and Shiloe decided that Moony had somehow accepted the beta wolf as part of his Pack.

 

Seff got up and bounded over to Shiloe. “You can transform back now.” He said.

 

“You will leave my mark upon you, though.” Moony added.

 

Shiloe transformed back, and looked down at his wet shirt. “Does Werewolf pee stain?” He wondered. “And are you going to feel the need to do that every time I come out here with you guys?” He asked Moony.

 

Moony looked at him for a moment, then said, “You are claimed. I don’t think I’ll need to re-stake the claim. Unless you do something that makes me think you’ve forgotten who you belong to.”

 

Shiloe sighed. “I think I’ll just be good, thanks.” He decided.

 

“We should run.” Moony told Seff.

 

Seff turned to Shiloe, lowering himself slightly. “Climb up.” He said.

 

Shiloe eyed him for a moment, then shrugged and climbed onto the Werewolf’s back, wrapping his legs around the form securely, and they were off, Moony bounding ahead and Seff following, Shiloe holding tight to the smaller Werewolf, exhilarated at the fast pace.


	8. Bill and Shi-Telling Molly (STW3.5)

Bill and Shiloe stopped just behind Molly, who was making breakfast.

 

“Um, Molly, we have a confession to make, and I think it’s better if we get it out of the way now.” Shiloe said sheepishly.

 

She turned around, an eyebrow raised. “Oh? And what’s that, Dear?”

 

Shiloe flushed. “I may have gotten Bill pregnant.” He mumbled.

 

Molly eyed Bill. “Well, at least he’s letting you have your turn on top. I suppose it could be worse. At least _you’re_ not the pregnant one. Bill, Dear, you’ll have to be put on light work if you are. Make sure you tell your boss as soon as you know for sure.” She said. “I’m not going to get _mad_ about it, you seem to have done it accidentally. These things _do_ happen sometimes, I know that better than most.” She told him with a smile.

 

Shiloe breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I don’t think I could live with myself if you were mad at me.”

 

“Of course, I _do_ expect to be allowed to be there at the birth. And who will be the Healer?” She asked Shiloe. “I assume you have one already, since Lucius is expecting?”

 

“A Mediwitch, actually. Poppy Pomfrey. I hope she’ll be able to handle things. I’ll talk to her about it when I return to the school, and I’ll send her here to see you.”

 

Molly sniffed. “She’s got enough on her plate at the school. _My_ Healer will handle the birth, if you’re okay with that, Shiloe?”

 

Shiloe blinked. “I assume your Healer has experience with male births?”

 

Molly smiled. “Yes, she does. She’ll be able to handle it. Since Bill will be delivering during the school year, it’s the best option. And then he can stay here so I can be near my Grandchild!” She said with a wide smile.

 

Shiloe shrugged. “I suppose that will work. You’re really not mad?” He checked one last time.

 

Molly shook her head, turning back to breakfast. “No, Dear. Like I said, these things sometimes happen. And I’m ready for there to be another baby around. It’s been quite some time.”

 

Bill smiled at Shiloe. “There, that wasn’t so bad.” He said.

 

Shiloe snorted. “Well, now all there is left to do is wait and see if you _are_ pregnant.”


	9. Draco and Nev-It Meant More(STW11.5)

“I can explain in private, if you want, but I will not discuss this in front of an audience.” Draco said firmly.

 

Neville stood up. “Then let’s go over by the house and talk. Before I agree, I need more information.” He said.

 

Draco sighed and followed him over by the house.

 

“Why are you suddenly so interested in me? It seemed like last time all you wanted was sex. Is this just you wanting something you don’t have?” Neville asked, flushing a bit, but standing his ground.

 

Draco shook his head. “No. I… Fuck me, this isn’t going to come out right. I couldn’t let you know that what we did meant more to me. I didn’t want to lose face in front of you. But it _was_ special, Neville. I really _do_ like you. And I won’t let Cedric just step in and take you without at least _trying_ to keep you. I know I never _had you_ to begin with, but-“

 

Neville placed his hand over Draco’s mouth, cutting him off. “That’s all I needed to hear. If it was something special to you, too, then there’s no reason I shouldn’t at least give you a chance. But you can’t be mad at me if the time comes to choose one of you, and I pick him. Because at this point, I have no idea who I like best. He’s _good_ to me, Draco. You’ll have to really be honest with me about how you feel. No more worrying about ‘losing face.’ Alright?”

 

Draco smiled. “I promise. So, you’re going to give me a chance?” He checked.

 

Neville laughed. “I _did_ give you my do-over, and you made it good for me. I already know I could do worse than you. You’re hot, rich, good in bed, what’s not to like? But I’ll warn you, Cedric’s not the type to back down without giving it his all. You’re going to have quite the competition on your hands.”

 

Draco shrugged. “I can handle a bit of a fight. And with the prize being you, I’m prepared to give it my all. Could I ask for a kiss?” He asked hopefully.

 

Neville nodded, and Draco immediately pulled the other teen into his arms, leaning down and kissing him deeply.

 

Neville had just enough time to gasp when Draco pulled him close, before lips were on his and his mouth was skilfully being coerced open further to let Draco’s tongue in.

 

He sighed into the kiss, letting his arms come up to wind around Draco’s neck tightly.

 

Draco broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Neville’s, panting. “Well, now my trousers are going to be rather uncomfortable for the rest of the day.” He said in a strained voice.

 

Neville giggled. “Let’s head back to the others. I’ve decided to give you a chance.”

 

Draco nodded and laced their fingers together as they headed back toward the others.

 


	10. Draco and Shi-Nymphs(STW14.5)

Draco stopped short at the edge of the trees, flinging a hand out to stop Shiloe. “We’ve found them.” He whispered, lowering his arm.

 

Shiloe looked through the trees at the lake, where a few nude women were sitting on boulders that jutted out of the water. “Do you think they’re friendly?” He whispered back.

 

Draco shrugged. “Really only one way to tell. Want to see?” He asked.

 

Shiloe grinned. “Sure.” He stepped out of the trees. “Hello?”

 

The three nymphs screamed and dove into the water, peeking out at him, only their eyes and the tops of their heads showing.

 

“Please don’t be afraid. I’m Shiloe, and this is Draco, one of my anchors.” He said, pulling Draco up beside him. “We don’t mean to scare you, we just wanted to see you and meet you. Draco’s father owns the house not too far from here.”

 

“Honestly, it’s a Manor, not a house.” Draco drawled, glaring at Shiloe mildly. “Get it right.”

 

Shiloe elbowed him. “Can you understand us?” He asked in curiosity.

 

One nymph stuck her head out of the water and nodded, slowly. “We can understand you.” She answered cautiously. “We weren’t expecting to see anyone here. We haven’t had visitors in ages.” She said.

 

Draco smiled. “I’m sorry if we frightened you.” He said.

 

The other nymphs looked him over and one stuck her head out of the water. “You’re very lovely.” She said, then peeked at Shiloe. “But you have a Shiloe. You’re off-limits. We’ve heard of what Shiloe can do. We won’t challenge one. We’re not stupid.” She finished haughtily.

 

Shiloe smiled. “I thank you for that. I’d hate to have to fight you over him. I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

The first nymph that had spoken with them pulled herself out of the water and back onto the boulder, sunning herself again. “Why did you want to meet us?” She asked.

 

“We’ve never seen nymphs before. We were curious.” Shiloe answered her.

 

She smiled. “And now? Is your curiosity satisfied?”

 

Shiloe shook his head, returning the smile. “Not quite. Can we talk for a while? I may never get an opportunity like this again.”

 

The nymph nodded. “I am Aria, and these are my two younger sisters, Nyselle and Larinia.” She said, pointing first to the darker-haired one, then to the redhead. Aria herself had light brown hair that had shone almost blonde when dry.

 

Nyselle waved, smiling brightly, and Larinia flushed, content to study them, face still hidden by the water.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Draco said charmingly, smiling at them all in turn.

 

Shiloe echoed his sentiments, then turned to Aria again. “How long have you lived here?”

 

Aria eyed him for a moment, then smiled. “It’s been three hundred years for me, two hundred fourteen for Nyselle, and Larinia is only one hundred and five. We’ve lived here all our lives. This lake is our home, and always has been. The Fawcette line, and now the Malfoy line, by extension, is protected by our magic. We fuel the Wards on the Manor, making it virtually unassailable.” She said smugly.

 

Shiloe nodded. “That’s what felt so strange about the Wards. It’s nymph magic.”

 

“It is.” Aria agreed. “We have our own kind of magic, and we don’t mind using it to help humans when they do us a good turn. And the Malfoys have not yet earned our ire, so we are content to lend our help to them, for as long as it suits us.”

 

Shiloe cocked his head. “Do nymphs have parents?”

 

Aria laughed. “Not as such. We came from the water, and we are of the water. I suppose if you must, you could call this lake our mother.” She mused.

 

Draco nodded. “That makes sense. Strangely, but it does.”

 

Nyselle pulled herself onto another rock and began combing out her hair with her fingers, the strands drying as soon as she touched them, shining a dark chestnut brown. “What is your father like? He came by one day, but never actually spoke to us, so we left him alone. He’s lovely, too.”

 

Shiloe tensed. “He’s _also_ mine.” He said, a growl underlying the words.

 

Nyselle pouted. “So _greedy_.” She chided. “Very well. What’s he like, though?”

 

Draco smiled. “He’s a lot like me, though he’s more collected most of the time. He’s also a bit more cautious, which explains why he didn’t try to talk to you. He was probably aware that you’d try to keep him here if he did, since he had nothing to ward you off with.”

 

Aria huffed. “What do you mean by that?”

 

Draco smirked. “Let me put it this way: If I wasn’t Shiloe’s anchor, would you let me leave here, having seen me?” He asked.

 

Aria considered him for a moment, then smiled coyly. “I see your point.” She conceded.

 

Nyselle giggled, braiding her hair. “You’re lovely, but not worth losing our lives over. We know Shiloe could boil away our lake with minimal effort, and we’d die if he did that. We don’t need a man _that_ badly, though we’d _like_ one. Especially one as lovely as you or your father.”

 

Shiloe narrowed his eyes. “How do you know what Shiloe are capable of?” He asked, the thought finally occurring to him.

 

Aria blinked at him. “That same way you know how to use your abilities. We’re not so different, really.”

 

“Ah.” Shiloe said, understanding dawning on him. “I see.”

 

Draco frowned. “I don’t.” He said.

 

“Generational knowledge.” Shiloe explained. “They know what many other nymphs had to learn the hard way.”

 

“Oh.” Draco said.

 

Aria nodded. “Most of our kind have merely had _dealings_ with Shiloe, but there are a few that were _anchors_ to their own Shiloe. We know more than you might think.” She said, and Shiloe lowered his empathy barriers a bit, feeling the amusement within her. She was enjoying this immensely.

 

“I find myself at a disadvantage, then. Be careful, or I might take offense.” He warned teasingly.

 

Nyselle laughed. “We’re not trying to put you ill-at-ease, so you’ll have to forgive us our slight advantages. We can’t help what we are, after all.”

 

“I suppose not.” Shiloe agreed, sitting on the bank of the lake. “How did you come to know about the Malfoy family?”

 

“Mirabelle Malfoy nee Fawcette came to meet us when she married into the family, since it meant that the family we had to associate ourselves with was changing. She came and explained the situation and asked that we keep the protections on the house up, and keep her descendants, who would all be Malfoys, safe as well. Thus far, we have.” Aria explained. “That was Nyselle’s first experience with witches and wizards. She was as shy then as Larinia is now. Lari will get over it in time. She’s still young. This is her first time meeting wizards.”

 

Draco sat next to Shiloe. “So, what, exactly, is your magic capable of?”

 

Aria giggled. “Now, that would be telling. But, we could give you a show.” She turned to Nyselle and Larinia. “Want to show them our control over our water?”

 

Nyselle slid off her rock with a smile, and Larinia nodded shyly.

 

Aria flashed a bright smile at Draco. “Watch this.”

 

The three nymphs began to chant in another language and a whirlpool quickly formed, gaining speed and intensity as it carried the three grinning nymphs around the lake.

 

Shiloe and Draco watched in interest.

 

“That looks like fun.” Shiloe commented.

 

“Oh, it _is_.” Nyselle shouted as the chanting stopped. “And it stays like this for quite some time.”


	11. Shi and Sal-Sensum (STW18.5)

//Parseltongue//

 

 

“I must say, I think I like you better drunk, old chap.” Salazar concluded, pouring Shiloe another drink.

 

Shiloe snorted. “You just like how chatty I get.” He corrected the man, picking up the glass of brandy and taking a large gulp. “Good thing I can hold my liquor.”

 

“You get that from me.” Salazar said, then hiccupped. He, too, took another large sip of his drink. “We need to decide when you will be starting your training with me. Have you ever tried any forms of hand-to-hand combat?” He asked, slurring his words only slightly.

 

Shiloe shook his head, then stopped, as the world tilted alarmingly. “No. Why?”

 

Salazar sighed. “That’s the first thing I have to teach you, then. How is your grace?”

 

“Dunno.” Shiloe said. “Never tested it, really.”

 

“There’s a way we can do that right now, and Lo has never gotten mad at me for doing it drunk, so we should be alright.” Salazar said, peering at Shiloe intently. He stood and bowed, then held out a hand to Shiloe. “Care to dance?”

 

Shiloe blinked. “There’s no music.”

 

Salazar waved an impatient hand and the sound of a single violin playing a waltz filled the bedroom. “There. Music. Care to dance?” He asked again, more impatiently.

 

Shiloe rolled his eyes and placed his hand in the other man’s. “Of course, my good sir.”

 

Salazar jerked him to his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close and beginning to lead him.

 

Shiloe concentrated on following his movements and cursed when he trod on the other man’s feet.

 

“No worries, I’m too drunk to feel it.” Salazar assured him. “But your grace is most surely in question.”

 

Shiloe sighed. “I think I’m too drunk to dance.” He said unhappily.

 

“No such thing.” Salazar said. “You’re merely lacking in practice, is all.”

 

“Oh, my.” A female voice said, before giggling ensued.

 

The two men turned to see Helga watching them, a hand over her mouth, trying to hold in her giggles.

 

Shiloe flushed, but Salazar continued to move. “Focus. Dancing with an audience is essential. Pay her no mind, and you’ll do fine.”

 

“She’s laughing at us.” Shiloe groused, finding that his feet moved more surely when he paid less attention to them.

 

“She laughs a lot, sometimes at seemingly nothing. Don’t let it distract you.” Salazar advised. “Love, I think you’re putting the young man off his stride. If you would leave us, please?”

 

Helga giggled once more, then curtseyed and left.

 

Salazar nodded in approval. “See, you’re doing better already.” The hand he had at Shiloe’s waist slid lower, resting on the curve of his ass. “Now, to see if you can dance with distractions.” He murmured, before leaning down and kissing Shiloe.

 

Shiloe moaned into the kiss, then stumbled, breaking the kiss in the ensuing fumble for balance.

 

Salazar sighed. “Well, we’ll work on that. On another note,” He waved his hand, cutting the music off and pulling Shiloe against him again. “How about another kiss, then?”

 

Shiloe leaned in and kissed Salazar again, groaning in pleasure when Salazar pulled him in, pressing their lower halves flush together.

 

Salazar’s mouth left his to nibble lightly at his earlobe. “Lie with me tonight?” He asked. “I will teach you things if you do. Remember that if you wish to learn Sex Magic your options are me or Rowena. Surely I’m your most likely choice?”

 

Shiloe panted, nodding. “Yes.” He said, thrusting against Salazar desperately.

 

Salazar quickly spelled both of them sober, his spellwork, like all the founders’, done wandlessly.

 

“How do you know so much wandless magic?” Shiloe asked.

 

Salazar smirked. “Surely you realize that to create a construct on the scale of Hogwarts, we had to be incredibly magically gifted? We all wield wandless magic easily. By the time Hogwarts came into being, we hardly used our wands at all anymore.” He answered.

 

Shiloe nodded. “Well, then, care to undress us? Where’s my wand?”

 

Salazar disrobed them, then glanced pointedly at the desk. “You left your wand over there.” He told the teen.

 

Shiloe walked over to the desk and returned with his wand in hand.

 

“Good. On my bed, if you please.”

 

Shiloe smirked, lying down. “ _My_ bed, actually.”

 

“For the purposes of tonight, _our_ bed, but it was mine first.” Salazar pointed out.

 

“Ah, but I’ve been using it more recently.” Shiloe contradicted.

 

“Semantics.” Salazar said, then grinned at Shiloe as he joined him on the bed. “The first spell I teach any pupil is one of my own creation, designed purely to enhance pleasure. Sensum.” He intoned, running a hand down Shiloe’s neck, then leaning in to kiss and nibble at the flesh.

 

Shiloe gasped, arching into the touch. “Holy Merlin!” He breathed, as the mouth continued to feast upon his flesh, quickly reducing him to a mindless, lust-driven state.

 

Salazar pulled back and watched as Shiloe regained control of his mental faculties.

 

“Well, I can see why that’s a Sex Magic spell. Really no other use for it.” He quipped.

 

Salazar chuckled. “Too true. But it’s a wonderful little spell, for all that.” He agreed. “Would you like to test it out for yourself, or would you like another dose, first?”

 

“Would it be greedy to ask for more?” Shiloe asked.

 

“A little bit of greed is an essential trait for all my Slytherins. What’s the point of always giving? Why not take when you’re given the opportunity? Here.” He ran his hand over Shiloe’s lips. “Sensum.”

 

Shiloe moaned loudly, Salazar’s mouth swallowing up the sound greedily as the man leaned in and kissed him. Salazar could give lessons in kissing, Shiloe decided, as the man patiently sought out every corner of his mouth, leaving not a single crevice unexplored. He finished off the kiss by sucking gently on Shiloe’s tongue, before he pulled back and watched the haze of sensum recede from his protégé.

 

Shiloe grinned up at him once he was once again in his right mind. “All right, my turn.” He got up and allowed Salazar to lie in his spot, kneeling above the man. He picked up Ducen and trailed it along Salazar’s chest. “Sensum.” He intoned, then bent his head to lick and suck at a nipple, hearing the gasp from Salazar as his mouth closed over the peaked point.

 

“Yes, very good.” Salazar breathed. “More. I like a bit of teeth, as well.” He instructed.

 

Shiloe bit down on the nipple, earning him a gasp and causing Salazar to arch toward him. “Like that?” He asked cheekily.

 

“Mind your tongue, young man, or I shall not teach you anymore.” Salazar drawled. “Now, the other one. The spell, however, should never be cast upon the cock, unless you want your play to be over prematurely.”

 

Shiloe smirked and twirled his wand in his fingers. “And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He asked rhetorically, then swept his wand over Salazar’s chest again. “Sensum.” He leaned in and sucked and nibbled at the other nipple, hearing the gasps of sensation from above him, revelling in the knowledge that he was causing each and every one to spill from the normally aloof man.

 

“Shiloe, I want you to fuck me.” Salazar told him.

 

Shiloe blinked at him in surprise. “Really?” He asked, looking over the man. He had chosen a form that was about twenty-something, and Shiloe was a bit floored that the man would ask to be topped, when he had chosen a form older than Shiloe, out of all the ages he could have chosen that night.

 

Salazar rolled his eyes. “Greedy, remember? I don’t mind being fucked by someone I know has the experience to make it enjoyable. You do. I’d like you to fuck me.” He reiterated.

 

Shiloe grinned. “Alright. Turn over, and I’ll rim you.” He said.

 

Salazar’s eyes darkened. “I’ve always liked a good rim job.” He purred, turning over and raising onto his hands and knees.

 

Shiloe smirked and pointed his wand at Salazar’s ass. “Sensum.” He cast, then leaned in and licked over the hole.

 

“Merlin’s balls!” Salazar screeched, pressing back eagerly. “No one’s ever tried _that_ before! More!” He demanded.

 

Shiloe chuckled and dove in, licking and sucking at the puckered entrance, driving his tongue in and out as he listened to the muffled curses and panting from Salazar. Once his tongue got tired, he pulled back and lubed his fingers, sliding one into Salazar, slowly.

 

“I’m not as inexperienced as all that. You can start with two.” Salazar said in amusement.

 

Shiloe snorted and added another finger, working them in and out carefully.

 

“Mm, yes, that’s nice.” Salazar purred, pressing back eagerly. “More.” He demanded.

 

“Yes, sir.” Shiloe teased, adding a third finger and twisting them, working the man open further.

 

Salazar groaned, tilting his head back and gripping the pillow in front of him tightly. “Yesss.” He sucked in a breath, then began to speak again, but no longer in English. //Fuck me now! I _need_ it!//

 

Shiloe groaned, then leaned down and ran his tongue over the pulse beating at the base of Salazar’s neck. //Beg me.// He hissed in return, rubbing his erection against the man’s arse.

 

Salazar sucked in a breath. Then, //I do _not_ beg.//

 

Chuckling, Shiloe lubed his cock. //Then at least ask nicely. Demanding is unbecoming of a gentleman, after all.// He cajoled.

 

//Please.// The hissed word was barely audible.

 

Shiloe decided that it was enough, and guided his cock to Salazar’s entrance and slowly pressed in. //Merlin, Sir! So tight!//

 

“My name,” Snarled a tight voice, “Is Salazar. You may use it, in these circumstances.” He dropped his head to the pillow in front of him and pushed back eagerly.

 

“Salazar!” Gasped Shiloe, holding tightly to the man’s hips. “Fuck, so good!”

 

Salazar responded with a heartfelt groan, tightening his muscles around Shiloe’s cock, causing both of them to moan loudly. //Harder!// He demanded.

 

Shiloe cursed softly, tightening his grip on Salazar’s hips and doubling his speed, pulling the man back to meet every thrust. Salazar’s body was already pressing back to meet his with every thrust, but the added leverage Shiloe had ensured that every thrust sank as far into Salazar as was possible.

 

“Stroke me, Shiloe.” Salazar said. “I’m going to come soon.”

 

Shiloe mentally cheered, knowing that his release wasn’t that far off, either. He reached around and gripped the man’s erection, stroking quickly as he leaned down and bit the man’s neck, hard enough to leave imprints of his teeth, but not enough to break the skin.

 

Salazar reared back and came with a loud shout, coating Shiloe’s fingers and causing Shiloe to buck into him, thrusting twice before he was coming, as well.

 

They collapsed onto the bed in a sweaty heap, and Salazar sighed happily. “That was good. You really are something, Shiloe. I find myself highly impressed.”

 

Shiloe chuckled breathily. “Thanks. Wow. That was certainly intense.”

 

“Wait until I show you more. That was barely the tip of the iceberg, my friend.” Salazar purred.


	12. Draco and Nev-Date (STW20.5)

Neville saw Draco and his Father appear on the lawn and smiled as they approached the house.

 

“Gran, they’re here!” He called out.

 

Augusta came into the sitting room and watched the two who were walking up to the door.

 

Lucius knocked and Augusta walked up to the front door, opening it. “Lucius.” She said coolly.

 

“Madam.” Lucius replied, inclining his head. “I believe your grandson has a date with my son today.” He said.

 

Augusta sniffed. “He needs to be back by ten.” She said. “That will give them three hours, which should be more than enough time for a dinner date.” She finished haughtily.

 

“I will see to it that Draco has him back here by then.” Lucius told her.

 

Augusta narrowed her eyes. “Will you be chaperoning them?” She asked.

 

“Of course.”  Lucius replied. “It would hardly be proper for them to be out together without a chaperone.”

 

“It happens pretty often nowadays, though.” Augusta muttered. “Fine. Neville, your young man is here for you!” She called out.

 

Neville walked up behind her, smiling at Draco, who stood behind his father. “Thank you, Gran. I’ll be back by ten, I promise.” He told her, as she moved aside to let him pass.

 

“See that you are.” She answered.

 

Neville walked up to Draco and took his hand.

 

Draco bowed over Neville’s hand, kissing the knuckles, then straightened, smiling at him. “You look handsome today.” He said softly, looking over the light blue robes Neville wore.

 

Neville blushed as the door shut quietly. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” He returned.

 

Draco was wearing pewter robes that nearly matched his eyes. “I hope so. I dressed to impress. Father, we’re ready to go.” He said.

 

Lucius placed a hand on the shoulders of both of them and side-along Apparated them to an upscale restaurant’s receiving room. “I’ll be sitting near you, but you two have a reservation for a separate table.” He told them. “You should have enough privacy to speak freely.”

 

Draco held out his hand to Neville, who took the hand with a smile. They followed the waiter that had appeared and took the table he indicated, then they watched as Lucius was seated nearby.

 

The waiter returned and they ordered drinks, both teens opting for sparkling cider.

 

They ordered their food and the waiter bowed and went to collect Lucius’ order.

 

“So, we really need to know each other better.” Draco said with a smile. “Especially if there’s a chance you and I might end up together.”

 

Neville chuckled. “It _would_ ease things somewhat if we did, yes.” He agreed mildly. “Where do you propose we start?”

 

Draco tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “What are your plans after Hogwarts? Do you have any interest in a particular career choice?” He asked.

 

“I do, actually.” Neville answered. “My best subject is Herbology, you might have noticed.”

 

Draco nodded. “I did.”

 

“Well, I want to start a nursery. In addition, I would have some rarer plants I would harvest to offer potioneers a local choice for certain ingredients. I think if there were a closer option, a lot of people would go that route rather than relying on apothecaries that are further away and have to ship ingredients to them from abroad.”

 

Draco’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “That works out well for me. I plan to become a private Potions Maker after I attain my Mastery. I could buy solely from you, and you’d have at least one person that would start out with a certain customer loyalty.”

 

Neville smiled. “That would probably help me, yes.”

 

“If we end up being mates, how many children would you want? Keep in mind, I top exclusively, so it would be _you_ bearing them.” Draco added.

 

Neville frowned. “I’m not so sure about that. What if I end up being a Dominant?”

 

Draco made a face. “Let’s hope you don’t. Or that you’re not _my_ mate if you _are_. I’m fairly certain I’ll never bottom, Nev.”

 

“Oh.” Neville said softly, then brushed it off. “At any rate, I think three would be fine, unless Shiloe wants one from me. I’d give him one if he asked. Either carried by me or him, I’m not picky.”

 

“Carried by _him_? He’s bottomed for you?” Draco asked curiously. He just couldn’t see Neville as a top.

 

Neville blushed. “He seems to like both roles, so yes.”

 

“Hmm…” Their food arrived and Draco took a bite.

 

Neville glanced over to the dance floor. “Are we going to dance after dinner?” He asked.

 

Draco smiled. “That’s the plan.” He confirmed.

 

Neville smiled. He might not like Draco’s insistence that he only tops, but he was romantic under it all. If he ended up with the blond, it would be a fair trade-off, he felt.

 

They chatted about inconsequential things for a bit, then the topic of child-rearing came up.

 

“Of course, any children I have are going to Durmstrang—”

 

“Not if they’re with _me_.” Neville said firmly. “I won’t stand for my children being sent that far away.”

 

Draco was silent for long moments, staring at him. Then, he sighed. “Why _not_?” He asked.

 

Neville ignored the question and continued. “Besides that, Durmstrang teaches the Dark Arts as part of their curriculum, and those can be addictive.”

 

“Only if you _abuse_ them!” Draco denied hotly.

 

“Which _most people_ , especially children raised on them, _do_. It’s too risky to dabble in that kind of thing from such a young age. If they want to try out a few Darker spells once they are, say, fifteen, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. Most teens can handle that kind of power responsibly; mine would certainly be able to. But no younger. It’s just too dangerous.” Neville finished.

 

Draco pursed his lips as he considered that. “Is that your only objection? Or do you really think it’s too far as well? Would you have the same objections over them attending a light school, like Beauxbatons?”

 

Neville smiled. “Still too far away. Hogwarts or homeschool, I’m afraid.”

 

Draco hummed. “We’d have tutors, of course.”

 

Neville nodded his agreement.

 

“Homeschooling _would_ be an option. It’s costly, though.”

 

“If money is a problem for you—”

 

“It’s not, I was just making an observation.” Draco said, shaking his head. “We have no problems with money. So, no Dark Arts before fifteen, no going further from home than Hogwarts. Anything else you won’t budge on? Best get it all out in the open now.”

 

Neville smiled. “That’s the important stuff. Anything else can be discussed as it comes up. Any stipulations _you’d_ like to insist on?” He teased.

 

“Naming.” Draco said firmly. “Absolutely _no_ star or constellation names. The Black family tradition ends with me. I won’t have any part of carrying my mother’s legacy forward.”

 

“Bitter much?” Neville asked in surprise.

 

Draco sneered. “She is still a loyal follower of the Dark Lord. She doesn’t deserve any consideration. Shiloe told me she was the first to appear when He called them. I’m quit of her.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Neville said softly.

 

“Don’t be.” Draco finished his last bite, then added, “She made her bed. I’ve still got Father, that’s enough for me.” He stood. “Let’s put this conversation from our heads and dance for a bit, yeah?”

 

Neville took his hand and smiled. “I’d love to.”

 

They walked onto the dance floor and Draco began leading Neville around in a waltz.

 

“You dance well.” Neville remarked.

 

“Lessons. I’m assuming you had them, too? There’s no way that level of skill is inborn.” Draco said in amusement.

 

Neville laughed. “Yes, especially with how clumsy I am. Three years.” He admitted.

 

Draco’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. That’s a bit much.”

 

“Trust me, I needed it.” Neville told him wryly.

 

“I have something to give you when we get back to the table, or your house. You can pick. It’s not much, just something to remember me by when I’m not with you.” Draco smirked. “Something you can show to Cedric, if you want. Who knows, he may start a competition.”

 

Neville smiled. “It had better not be a _ring_.” He said in amusement.

 

Draco scoffed. “ _Hardly_. I’m not _that_ presumptuous.” He denied. “Wait and see.”

 

They danced for another half an hour, until Lucius came and stood by the edge of the dance floor, watching them.

 

Draco sighed and ended the dance, then they headed home.

 

“Here.” Draco said, holding out a jeweller’s box when they were back in front of Neville’s house. “It’s not much, and you don’t _have_ to take it.”

 

Neville opened the box. Inside was a necklace made of gold, the chain small and delicate, a tiny golden lion hanging from it. Neville gasped. “It’s _beautiful_!” He breathed, handing it back to Draco. “Put it on me?”

 

Draco smiled and carefully put it on Neville, then gave then other teen a soft kiss. “I had a good time tonight. We should do this again. Around Christmas?” He suggested.

 

Neville chuckled. “Sounds good to me. Keep in mind, if I make plans with Cedric for a Hogsmeade weekend, you are _not_ to interfere.” He said sternly.

 

“All’s fair in love and war, but I can do that for you, I suppose.” He agreed.

 

Neville shot him on last smile and went back in the house.

 

“With ten minutes to spare.” Lucius said. “Did you have a good time, Draco? Really?”

 

“Yes, Father, I did. I really like him.”

 

Lucius smiled. “Then I hope you are his mate in the end.”


End file.
